


Ignite

by projectoverlord



Series: Affinity [3]
Category: The Avengers (2012), The Avengers - All Fandoms
Genre: Domestic Violence, Family, Gen, M/M, Protectiveness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-07
Updated: 2012-07-07
Packaged: 2017-11-09 08:52:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/453648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/projectoverlord/pseuds/projectoverlord
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony finds out that Clint is trying to get back with his abusive ex. He takes matters into his own hands. Mention of physical abuse in a relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ignite

Tony is in his lab, hunched over a prototype weapon for the Mark 10, when Jarvis' voice fills the room. "Sir, my pattern recognition systems have detected a possible threat to the security of the tower and its occupants."

His head pops up from the prototype, and he frowns. "What kind of s-You know what, just show me."

     A video feed, date-stamped to three hours ago, pops up on one of the unused monitors. Tony watches, uninterested, as a man dawdles into the frame. His plain hoodie obstructs most of his face, and he seems not to know the camera is there. They're Stark Tech, so Tony isn't surprised this guy hasn't seen the tiny surveillance device. He doesn't move from the frame, just stands there an rocks back and forth. Tony knows the area, and he knows that the direction this guy is looking shows the base level of the tower. 

     He's watching the entrance.

     "It's just a guy, Jarvis," Tony murmurs, attention moving back to his work. "I'm sure it's nothing."

      _"Sir_ ," says the AI, more insistently this time, and Tony's attention catches on the inflection. Then he's watching, stomach slowly twisting, as video feeds pop up on the screens. More and more appear, until he's looking at almost thirty different frames. Every one of them has the same guy on different days, just standing there and watching. Jarvis, quietly, adds, "This is a regular occurrence."

     "Well he hasn't done anything, has he? No point in worrying if he's just going to stand there. He won't get in the front door, and I'm sure even I could handle one guy. If not, you have permission to call in any of the other five superheroes in this building."

     Jarvis is silent for a moment. Tony waits for him, and is about to provoke a response when the AI says, "I cannot be certain, sir, but I believe this to be the same individual. He is of the same height."

     A new feed appears, over all the others. The guy has his back turned, now, but Tony's pretty certain it is the same man. This time, however, he's talking to someone whose face is out of frame. They look like they are simply talking, but something begins to knot Tony's insides. The person out of frame steps closer, into the stranger's personal space, and tries to touch his face. For a second, nothing happens. Then the guy lifts one hand and socks the out-of-framer in the face. It's _hard_ , and the force sends the victim sprawling. They hit the pavement with such severity Tony winces at the sight. The stranger kicks, hitting the victim's stomach without restraint.

     And, with a start, Tony realises he knows the victim. "Jarvis, tell me that isn't-"

     "I'm afraid so, sir," Jarvis says, and now there is a definite strain of sadness in his voice. "It is, indeed, Clint Barton."

     "Why the hell didn't he mention this to us?" Tony asks, and maybe there should be more words, but as he watches they simply fade from his mind. Clint is trying to climb to his feet, trying to beg with the stranger, and getting kicked every time he opens his mouth.

     Tony's blood is _boiling_. His entire body feels like it's been dipped in molten lava. "Jarvis, find out who he is. I don't care what you have to hack, get me his name. Find out where he lives. And prepare the Mark 8 for flight."

     "Sir, I don't think is wise. I suggest calling Miss Romanova. She may be able to shed more light u-"

     "The situation has enough light," Tony snaps. "Call Steve."

     "Very well, sir," Jarvis says.

     The phone rings eight times, and then Steve says, " _Tony? Is everything alright?_ "

     "Are you with Barton?"

     " _Yeah, we're getting lunch with Phil and Bruce. Why?"_

     "Don't let him out of your sight. You stay with him until I tell you otherwise."

     There's a moment of silence, and Tony can just hear Steve's muffled voice as he excuses himself. Then, louder, " _Tony, what's going on?_ "

     "Just stay with him, Rogers. I don't care what excuses you use."

     Steve starts to protest, but Tony just hangs up. The Mark 8 is quickly attached to him, and as Iron Man, he flexes beneath the suit. "Jarvis, tell me you've found him."

     While he waits for Jarvis, he thinks back to their mission yesterday. The amount of effort it must've taken to hide his injuries...Clint didn't even _wince,_  not once. Again, anger burns through Tony.

     "Sir, his name is John Beckett. The address is being patched into the suit now."

     "Call Natasha," he tells the AI as he activates the suit's guidance systems.

     " _Stark?_ " Natasha says, picking up after only the first ring. " _Are you in the suit? We don't have a current op, what do you think you're doing?"_

"Where are you?" He says, pushing the suit faster as he breaks out into open air.

     " _I'm at SHIELD's headquarters."_

Tony pauses, mapping out the route on the HUD. "I'm sending you an address. Meet me there. _Now_."

     " _I'm a little busy,"_  she tells him, clearly annoyed even through the phone.

     "It's about Clint."

     The line goes quiet. Tony thinks maybe she's just hung up on him. Then she says, " _I'll be there in two minutes."_

__

     Tony gets there first. He sets down as inconspicuously as he can. It's a quiet part of the city, near the outskirts, and there are no people about. Luckily for him. If Fury found out about this little outing, there'd be the hell to pay. Bringing in Natasha was a necessary evil; if he went without her, she'd kill him for not letting her tag along.

     Her car sped around the corner thirty seconds before she'd said it would, and pulls up against the curb. The door slams, and she rounds on him angrily. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

     "I'm asking you to come inside and speak to this guy with me," he says, using the suit to patch through the feed of Clint being beaten. "You and I are going to have a nice, long chat with him."

     For a moment, her face is as red as her hair. Tony swears her eyes blaze. It's a fearsome sight. When she looks up, there's recognition in her eyes. "Beckett."

     "You _know_  this guy?"

     "Who do you think forced Clint to walk away from him the first time?" she snaps. "They were dating for about a year, up until last month."

     It doesn't surprise him, knowing Clint bats for the other team. The guy looks at Coulson with _stars_  in his eyes. That's not why he's angry. No, he's _pissed_  because Clint stood by and let this bastard spawn get the better of him. Even in close quarters, Clint is deadly - almost deadlier than Natasha. He could've _fought back_.

     "No, he couldn't," Natasha says quietly, because yeah, he may have said that last bit out loud. "Because he loves Beckett. And he's...it's complicated. Let's go. Are you going to wear the suit?"

     "I don't play fair with people like him," he tells her tersely. "Besides, I was thinking he might like to take a ride with me."

     And damn, Tasha can look murderous when she wants to, even with a _smile._  He's certainly not getting any complaints out of her about his choices. They stride up to the door together. He punches the lock in. Natasha is unarmed, but he knows better than to think she's harmless without her guns. Together, they edge into the apartment. She gestures at the bedroom, then splits away for the hallway.

     Tony finds him on the bed, passed out. Doesn't even wake up to the sound of the suit whirring. Doesn't wake up until he's lifted out of bed by his throat and thrown into the wall. It craters under the pressure, and a slick feeling of satisfaction pulls at Tony's stomach. Natasha enters the room, perfectly calm and collected. "I warned you, Beckett."

     "If your friend wants something from me he isn't getting from you, I'm more than happy to give it to him. You don't tell me what to do, bitch."

     Tony's blood absolutely _ignites_. Like it's burning holes in his skin. Natasha's got first pickings though. Her foot connects with Beckett's face. His nose - possibly his skull - cracks.

     "You wanna bet?" she asks, readying a fist. Tony, however, has seen enough. One hand closes over Beckett, and he goes straight up through the roof. The ceiling shatters, and they emerge into daylight.

     "So, bucko, you wanna call me a bitch too?" he asks.

     "Let me go!"

     Tony sneers at him, "Oh, don't tempt me. I'd love nothing more. So, here's what you are going to do. You are going to leave this town. Drive until you see mountains and then keep driving. And if you _ever_  come near my family again, I _will drop you_. You get me? _Do you get me?_ "

     "Okay, okay, I get you! Just take me back!"

 

     They drop back through the same hole. He throws Beckett at Natasha. "You want the last say, Miss Romanova?"

     Her lips curl into a dark, dangerous smile. As he turns and walks out, the screams follow him. Tony hopes Natasha kills him. Finishes him off, for Clint. Because Barton doesn't deserve to be treated like that. Another flourish of anger attacks him. His _family_ was hurt by this asshole. He should go back in there and end it himself.

     Natasha emerges. Blood stains her knuckles, and she's sheathing a small, covert knife back into its hiding place. Her face is unreadable, as always. "Do we tell Clint?"

     "You're damn right we tell him. He was trying to get closer to that... _yes_. We tell him. I'll meet you back at the tower."

     When he's in the doorway, she calls his name. His eyes meet hers, and she smiles with an unfamiliar warmth. "Thank you."

     "Always," he replies.

 

     They meet up with Clint back at the mansion, after Tony has shed the Mark 8 and Natasha has scrubbed the blood from her bruised knuckles. Clint knows the second he walks in, Steve and Bruce at his sides, that something has changed.

     "You should have told me he was back," Natasha scolds. Tony stays quiet, as much as it pains him.

     Clint narrows his eyes. "It's none of your business."

     "None of our business?" Tony says, ignoring the confusion on the other faces in the room. He's just too _angry_  to bother with explanations. "Damnit, Barton, you are one of us. Someone treats you like shit, you fight back! And if you can't do it yourself you come to us. That's what family is for. That's what we do for each other, because we care about things like this. I don't know what the hell kind of spell you're under, but you had better _snap out of it_. You are worth more than that, worth more than a punching bag for some asshole who thinks he's big and tough. You are worth more than someone bruising you and treating you like you don't matter because _I promise you_ , you do."

     There's not a face in the room that doesn't look startled by that. Tony realises, belatedly, that his hand is on Clint's shoulder. The archer is staring back at him in shock. Maybe he'll take a swing, Tony considers. But the look begins to fade, and Clint just smiles and places his hand on Tony's shoulder.

 

     That is, somehow, how they end up in the lounge room curled up on one couch. Tony's arm is slung around Clint, his other hand resting on Thor's knee. Natasha is tucked in an impossibly small space between Clint and Bruce. Clint is rubbing the marks on Tasha's knuckles, and there are tears in his eyes but he doesn't look sad. He just looks content. Steve, who is on the other side of Thor, touches Tony's shoulder. They share a look over the back of Thor's head. And he knows, immediately, that Steve is thinking of their conversation the other night. About family. And yeah, he gets it now. That tug in his heart that's telling him to stand like a guard dog over Clint until he's _certain_  nothing will ever hurt the archer ever again. He'd never known it before, this feeling, because he's never had it before.

 

     This is _family._

_  
_

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading.


End file.
